


softer at the back

by semele



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 15:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10970343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semele/pseuds/semele
Summary: Bellamy isn’t really injured, but he still barely makes it to the communal showers.Or: Delinquents have their own village, and they just defeated their first vaguely serious raider threat.





	softer at the back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MarauderCracker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarauderCracker/gifts).



> Andrea asked for hurt/comfort after a battle and in the shower. You ask, I deliver.

Bellamy isn’t really injured, but he still barely makes it to the communal showers.

It’s exhaustion, a doctor would tell him if they still had doctors here in the village, but doctors stayed far away, in Camp Jaha, building a better world or some other shit. Bellamy didn’t really ask what the next grand plan was before he took what was left of his people and any volunteers he could find, and walked out on what was left of the Ark. He just wanted some fucking peace and quiet.

He got his wish in the end, but only to an extend. They walked for days before they found a good place to settle, an area unclaimed by anyone to the best of Lincoln’s knowledge. The first winter was hell, and then it got better, once news travelled around that there was a new village that was willing to take in anyone, as long as they didn’t start shit. Now, three years down the line, they have proper fields and workshops, anything needed to sustain themselves and keep alive, so obviously they attract attention. More than they should, to Bellamy’s taste, but what can he do? They can’t exactly disappear in the woods again.

Most of the times, it’s okay. They are farmers, they’re craftsmen and traders, and surrounding tribes mostly consider them a good addition to the area, peaceful and prosperous, eager to help out on a rainy day. But raiders from afar can happen to anyone, and they need to be fought, no way around it, no matter how peaceful Bellamy tries to be. So here he is: sore and wired after the battle, dragging his feet into the showers to wash off the mud.

“You look like hell,” says a familiar voice when he pulls off his shirt. Bellamy shrugs.

“You should see the other guy.”

Raven walks fairly well with the brace by now, but it still takes her some effort to make it to the bench opposite to Bellamy’s. She is fully clothed, and clearly has no intention of washing.

“Do you need to see a healer?” she asks, watching his chest like a hawk. “Lincoln is…”

“Busy with people who have actual wounds,” interrupts Bellamy as he starts undoing his belt and zipper. If she decided to come and talk to him here, clearly she doesn’t mind him being naked, and after three years of showering and going to the lake for a swim with half a village in tow, Bellamy has no modesty left. She’s seen him naked a dozen times over by now.

“Is there…” Raven bites her lip. “I heard we won, but were there…”

Bellamy looks up from over his fumbly belt buckle, and gives her a small smile, not needing her to use the scary words. Not this time.

“No casualties. It was just a bunch of idiots expecting to have it easy because they had horses. They won’t be bothering us again.”

Raven gives him a once-over at that, and he actually reconsiders his approach to casual nudity. Not that it stops him from taking off his pants. That would be ridiculous.

“You look like a horse kicked you,” observes Raven in a flat voice, then twists a little to take a better look at his side. “Actually, make that three.”

“Nothing kicked me.” Stark naked, Bellamy walks into the nearest shower stall, and starts soaping himself up, impatient to finally feel warm water on his back. “I just fell and bumped into a tree stump like a moron. Very leader-like. I’m sure Miller will present a pantomime this evening if you ask him.”

But Raven isn’t laughing. She’s standing in the stall door, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the bruise on his side, looking ready for murder, and Bellamy feels at a great disadvantage with his hands full of harsh, homemade soap. He sighs.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, deflating. “I should’ve come straight to you. I just really wanted a shower first.”

There is no obligation like this between them, no understanding that he always would come to her first, and assure her that he’s whole. Except apparently now it is.

Raven steps into the stall, clothes and all, and extends her hands, then lathers them up as soon as he drops the soap into them. She’s so gentle washing his back it almost feels like he has no bruises at all, and there is nothing casual about his nudity, either. He doubts there ever was.

“I’m fine,” he says when Raven’s hand shakes a little, and she closes her fingers on his shoulder like she means to keep him exactly where he is. There have been small fights breaking out here and there over the last three years, but they always happened so fast they were just dealt with on the spot by whoever happened upon the enemy. This was the first time there was time to run into the village and grab proper weapons. The first time in three years that they actually marched out.

The first time Bellamy happened to be one of the fighters.

“Right,” she says in that flat voice again, straining to sound casual. Nothing casual about this, either. “You didn’t even tell me you were going.”

“You were in your workshop…”

“You were supposed to fucking tell me, Bellamy.”

No, he wasn’t, but that’s beside the point now. Starting today, he apparently is.

“Sorry.”

He turns around to look at her, and she’s suddenly a lot less imposing when she’s up close. Just small enough for him to cup her cheek, and run his thumb over her cheekbone.

“Let me put on some pants before we have the rest of this conversation, okay? I feel like an idiot.”

“You _are_ an idiot,” she grumbles, but smiles. Tilts her head like she’s about to take a risk, then deflates a little bit, takes a step back as if to leave the stall. “I’ll let you get dressed.”

But when he leans to kiss her, she comes right back in.


End file.
